


Strange Things Are Afoot at the SGH

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who (2005), Eureka, Grey's Anatomy, Heroes (TV), Nip/Tuck, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Crack Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George keeps on walking through a multiplicity of universe. Because strange things are afoot at Seattle Grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Things Are Afoot at the SGH

“You never come home, girl,” the pretty cop was saying, elbowing Izzie in the ribs. “It’s all hush-hush with you, even though everyone in Eureka saw the photos of Bethany Whisper.”

Izzie had this look on her face, one that George knew all too well, that suggested Izzie wanted to disappear, or more likely, to bake six dozen apricot-walnut muffins and hand them out at the clinic with the look of a martyr.

“Look where we come from, Jo,” Izzie replied with a shrug. “I didn’t even think we were allowed to refer to the old hometown by name without four DoD signatories and personal permission from Nathan the Massive Asshat.”

“Probably not,” the cop said. “But I’m not in town, and I could give two damns about what the massive asshat says. I’m the sheriff and all.”

“The deputy sheriff, Jo-jo, and whatever, why aren’t you running the fucking town by now?” Izzie asked, tapping her fingers on the counter elegantly.

“I have a boss. Which is kind of like saying I have an overgrown stupid puppy to watch, but Carter comes through in a pinch, so I feed and water the puppy,” Jo the cop said. “Hey, who’s that?”

Izzie and her friend both looked over to where George had been lurking and listening. Izzie scowled, and the friend, whose name seemed to be Jo, waved.

“That’s George. He’s my friend,” Izzie said, leaving out the part where he was the friend who got shitfaced plastered on bad whiskey and fucked her and totally cheated on his awesome wife, who he probably didn’t love enough. “George, stop being a dumbass and come over here already.”

George swallowed and walked over. “Hi, I’m George. Are you Izzie’s friend, too?” he asked.

“I am,” the cop said. “I’m Jo Lupo. So, what does Izzie do when she’s not spending eight million dollars on a free clinic?”

“Bakes. She’s a baker,” George said, rushed. “So, you’re uh, a cop, right?”

“A deputy sheriff,” Jo Lupo said, giving him a once over that made George feel small and pissed off, because she was clearly judging him. “You’re really freaking nervous about something, Izzie’s friend George. I hope it’s not me — I don’t bite unless you’re a perp.”

She turned to Izzie. “Oh, I have to tell you this story over dinner and beer tonight,” Jo told Izzie, who gave George this guilty little look but was clearly interested in Jo’s story. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get one of these bastards down…”

George shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and noticed Callie in the corner of his eye.

“I have to, um, go,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Jo.”

“Yeah, it was special,” Jo said distractedly as George trotted over to his wife, who was talking to another person George had never seen at the hospital before.

Because if George had seen her, he would have remember, what with her being tall, sexy as hell, and British.

“Is this him?” the woman asked, smiling at him. “Hi, I’m Martha. Martha Jones. You must be George. Callie was telling me all about you.”

“Yes, I’m George,” George said, looking at Callie, who looked away. Oh, he was so still in the doghouse, but maybe being nice to Martha would help. “So, you’re from England?”

“That’s right,” Martha said. “I met Callie when she was on vacation during her residency. You’re a lucky man, George. Callie’s a great friend.”

“I think she’s wonderful, yeah,” George said, trying to smile. “So what brings you to Seattle?”

“Yeah, you kind of got secretive when I asked,” Callie said.

Martha sighed. “Oh, it’s complicated like you wouldn’t believe, Callie,” she said. “I’ve found this bloke I fancy the pants off of, but he’s unavailable. Can’t get over the ex, but does things like have me get into bed with him and stare me in the face.”

Callie made an exasperated face. “Oh, are you serious?” she asked, linking arms with Martha. “What a complete wanker! Wanker is right, right? Or tosser. He could be a tosser.”

“He’s mad, but he’s so wonderful that I keep forgiving him,” Martha mourned. “Why do men do it, George?”

“Do what?” George asked, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise. This was potentially really bad territory, given that he was a cheating cheater who’d had drunken sex with his best friend recently.

“Lead a girl on, of course!” Martha said, giving him a little smack on the arm. “I swear, I’m going to go mad, figuring if he’s serious or he’s just a…tosser, right?”

“Maybe he’s afraid he’s making a mistake that will hurt everyone, so he wants to go slow,” George suggested.

“Oh, whatever,” Callie said as Martha grinned cheekily. “You’re too good for him, babe.”

George got the feeling he wasn’t wanted, so he waved politely and hurried away from his wife and her friend talking about the crazy guy Martha couldn’t get enough of.

He was so busily not looking that he walked right into another stranger — a tall, dark, handsome stranger who was wearing a white coat.

Which caused the stranger to drop his latte and spill it, mostly on George, with like, three drops hitting his loafers.

“Watch it! These are Italian,” the stranger said, looking at George like he was an orderly.

“Are you another ringer?” George asked.

“That depends — what job do I get?”

“Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace,” George said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Dr. O’Malley.”

“Dr. Christian Troy,” the man said, sticking out his hand. “I’m looking for Mark Sloan. Maybe you know him — thinks he’s a pimp, fussy about the beard, kind of a jackass.”

“Oh, McSteamy,” said George without thinking. “Uh, I mean, some of the interns call him McSteamy because there’s a thing where all the surgeons are McSomething, and McSteamy was the guy who stole McDreamy’s wife and I’m really boring you, aren’t I?”

Dr. Christian Troy grinned. “Ahh, the great Mark Sloan, pussy-whipped at last,” he said. “Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome,” George said, just as Alex almost ran up. “Hey, Alex.”

“You’re Christian Troy,” Alex said in a voice that was usually reserved, in George’s experiences, for people having come to Jesus experiences. “You and your partner did the Rosenberg case. You attempted the facial transplant on Hannah Tedesco. Basically, you’re a god. Why is God at this shitty little hospital?”

“We’re here to fix one of Mark Sloan’s mistakes and make a little plastics history while we’re at it,” Dr. Troy said. “Dr. Karev, is it?”

“That’s right. Dude, I am a huge fan. Did you really date Kimber Henry before she flipped her shit and became a Scientologist?” Alex asked.

“I did, and let me tell you, son, never date a porn star,” said Dr. Troy, turning all of his attention on Alex while George remembered he now had half a latte drying into his shirt. “Even before they flip their shit, they’re nothing but trouble…”

George decided he wasn’t going to listen to the porno star discussion, and Alex looked like he wanted to be alone with his idol — or maybe Alex just dug any guy who hated on McSteamy — so he kept walking, thinking he could maybe get the coffee out.

Mostly, it just left him with a big wet spot on the front of his scrubs that made George decide he was changing.

Which is how George found himself walking in on Cristina having a noisy discussion with yet another person in the hospital he’d never seen before in his life.

“No. No WAY,” Cristina said. “Look, it’s all psychosomatic. Bring her in, I will prove it to you.”

The other person, who was a redheaded woman with a cute smile, snorted. “And what if I prove the super-strength is real like a real thing?” she asked. “Will you finally admit that I’m not just a fluttery pagan hysteric? Will you help me out, Cristina? This girl saved your life last night and all you can manage is, ‘vampires don’t exist.'”

“Because they don’t. That guy was a crazy drunk, and I shouldn’t have been hanging out in the alley, and I’m totally grateful, but vampires don’t exist,” Cristina said. “George, tell my crazy friend Willow there aren’t vampires.”

“There aren’t any…what’s that on your neck?”

“That’s where the vamp did a little non-existent sucking,” Cristina’s crazy friend Willow said.

“They look infected,” George said, walking up to Cristina and looking at her neck. “You should have them checked out.”

“I’m fine. Crap, when did you become my mother?” Cristina asked, putting her hand over her vampire bite marks.

“Does this mean you’re one of them now?” George asked, looking at Cristina suspiciously.

“Would you even know the difference?” Cristina asked, sneering and baring her teeth. George jumped back and she laughed. “One of them, one of them…”

“They do look infected. I’m just sayin, Christian Troy and his partner are in the building, so you might not want to miss out on a surgery because you have a small case of vampire,” George said, folding his arm.

“Sean McNamara’s in the building? I bet Alex is already sucking up,” Cristina said, making another face. “So if you little worrywarts will get out of my way, I’m going to go meet Sean McNamara.”

She pushed past George, and her friend Willow rolled her eyes. “If she was really a vampire,” George said. “You wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Willow laughed. “True facts!” she agreed. “Anyway, you’re totally nice about this. Thanks.”

“No problem,” George said. “Um, I need to like, change my shirt because Christian Troy spilled latte on it. I didn’t even know he was a famous plastic surgeon when he did it.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Willow said, looking at his shirt intently. “Siccus et tersi!”

And just like that, George’s scrubs were clean and dry. Also, magic apparently existed, and probably vampires, but that wasn’t really George’s problem. If Bailey was looking for him and he was hanging out in the locker room, that was his problem.

“I have to go,” George said. “Thanks for the magic. If Cristina grows fangs, um, I guess I could call you?”

“Send me an email at willow@slayer.org,” she suggested. “Maybe we can have coffee some time or something. It’d be nice, talking to another, y’know, person of non-standard sexuality.”

George sighed. “Not gay, just nice.”

“Oh!” Willow said. “That’s good, too. I guess I should, um, be elsewhere now?”

“I’ll email you, really,” George said. “It would be nice, talking to someone who is not one of my crazy intern friends.”

Willow nodded, and both of them fled.

George, of course, fled into Meredith having a tearful conversation with a guy who was even prettier than Dr. Shepherd.

“I keep thinking she’s happier now, that she wouldn’t have wanted to live in her body. And I hated her, I really did. But I miss her, too,” Meredith was telling the guy. “Hey, George. Come meet my friend Peter.”

“Everyone has a new, weird friend today,” George said, walking up to the guy. “Did I miss a memo or something? Is it really bring a weird friend to work day?”

“Peter’s a hospice care nurse,” Meredith said. “We met online in the Final Care forums. He’s in town for…what was it?”

“To see some old friends. They’re getting married tomorrow,” Peter said. “I though it might be good to meet up with Meredith, make sure she’s doing okay.”

“Yeah, totally,” George said. “Don’t you think that’s weird? Everyone has a random friend here except me.”

Meredith shrugged. “Coincidence.”

“I don’t think there are coincidences,” Peter said. “Maybe it’s fate.”

“You don’t believe in coincidence, but you believe in fate?” Meredith asked. “That’s a little bizarre.”

“Strange things are afoot at the Circle K,” George said. Both Meredith and Peter looked at him like he was on drugs. “You know, from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t really funny,” Meredith said. “You actually admit to watching Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure?”

“I was twelve and it was an awesome movie — so shut up, okay?” George said. “Oh, hey, Cristina might be a vampire. Something bit her, but she was too busy trying to beat Alex out of a surgery that these famous plastic surgeons are doing. Also, Callie has an English friend with a stupid boyfriend here, and Izzie comes from a top-secret town, maybe.”

“Okay,” Meredith said, looking completely unsurprised about any of it. Maybe she wasn’t, or maybe it was just that none of that was really that bad compared to the usual drama. “Peter’s a superhero. He can take powers and use them.”

“Like Rogue?” George asked, no longer questioning the weirdness of his day.

“Yeah, but without the power-sucking killing deal,” Peter said, touching a scar on his forehead self-consciously. “Also, I get to keep the powers.”

“Wouldn’t that overload you?” George asked. “I mean, it seems like a cheat.”

“I’m not good at bringing my powers up yet,” Peter admitted and George shrugged. “I don’t know if it’ll overload me or not yet.”

“There has to be a limit to it,” George insisted. “You’ll overcome the power accession issue; that’s a matter of discipline. But holding all those mutations has to be hard on your system.”

Meredith cleared her throat. “George?” she said. “You’re getting geeky.”

“But he is right,” Peter said. “I don’t consciously power-steal; it just happens.”

The conversation was rapidly reaching surreal, and so George was actually kind of glad to hear Bailey’s familiar shout.

“Do I even HAVE interns, or did they all run away?”

“Gotta go,” Meredith and George said in unison. Peter nodded, and George took off at a sprint to reach Bailey, who had her clipboard and a look on her face that would dry paint.

“So where’s your little friend that you brought to my surgical floor today, O’Malley?” Bailey asked.

“I didn’t get the memo,” George said. “If there was a memo and not, like, fate involved.”

Bailey snorted as Meredith finished trotting up. “Well, you’re fated to help me do an appendix removal. Grey, go help Dr. Montgomery today, and stop making kissy-faces at your friends who shouldn’t even BE on my surgical floor,” she said. “You got me?”

“Oh, thank God, the world is returning to normal,” George said quietly. Meredith and Bailey turned to give him a look. “Sorry. But true.”

“O’Malley, stop thanking God and get your ass to room 315,” Bailey said. “I want the patient briefed and ready for me when I get there, you got me?”

George nodded and practically skipped down the corridor. It had been getting beyond strange there, with all these random friends showing up for no reason.

He opened the door to room 315, and stopped cold.

“Laura? Laura Cadman, is that you?” he asked.

“Hey, George,” George’s best friend from junior high said. “I have a busted appendix ready to blow like a ton of C4. You up for exploding it before it gets me?”

Okay, so the random wasn’t over yet. But at least Bailey couldn’t blame this on him…


End file.
